


Summer of '69

by babyrubysoho



Series: Free Love [1]
Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1960s, Alternate Universe - Hippies, Car Sex, First Meetings, Hitchhiking, M/M, Romance, Sassy Kwon Jiyong | G-Dragon, Woodstock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-27 15:28:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20048305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babyrubysoho/pseuds/babyrubysoho
Summary: Strait-laced country boy Seunghyun reluctantly stops for a hippie hitchhiker in the middle of nowhere - and gets the ride of his life.





	Summer of '69

**Author's Note:**

> Someone asked me to draw 1960s-style GTOP. I don't really like hippie fashion so I just made Jiyong naked ^^. But I got quite into the scenario so here's a fluffy smutty little oneshot to go with the pic :)

Seunghyun regretted slowing down as soon as he got close enough to realize the hitchhiker wasn’t a woman; but by then it was too late. The small figure dropped its extended arm to bounce after the pickup in a hopeful jog, and in spite of his misgivings Seunghyun wasn’t quite enough of an asshole to drive away.

“Hey!” said the boy, tugging open the door as Seunghyun reluctantly brought the old Ford to a stop. “Going my way?”

“Depends which way that is, doesn’t it.” On closer inspection Seunghyun was surprised to see the hitcher had an Asian face – he hadn’t expected to find anyone who looked like himself out here in the boondocks. The similarity was pretty loose, mind you, because everything else about the young man for whom he’d mistakenly stopped was making him regret his kindness even more. He rarely gave rides to guys ‘cos you never knew when you’d happen upon some racist asshole; the only thing to be grateful for now was that this boy was too weedy to be physically intimidating.

“Oh,” exclaimed the kid, a little breathless, “wherever, really!” Seunghyun looked at him dubiously, then at the dusty grass of the verge and the heat wavering off the hardtop behind him. What kind of imprudent person asked a stranger to take them just _anywhere_? He’d only slowed at all ‘cos the sun was so fierce and the hitcher from behind hadn’t seemed to have a hat – or indeed many clothes at all, just long hair and longer legs poured into denim shorts. They were miles from the highway and Seunghyun had been concerned something might’ve happened to what he’d presumed was the girl plodding along up ahead – maybe she’d fought with her boyfriend and he’d ditched her on the side of the road; he’d felt duty-bound to help a damsel in distress. And now look at the state of things.

“…I can take you up to Fallsburg,” he offered after a hesitation in which the boy’s small face started to look – not pissed or disappointed, but as if he knew a refusal was coming and was used to it. “I’m going right past anyway.” The face lit up and he was rewarded with a flash of white teeth.

“Tubular,” said the young man happily. Seunghyun almost rolled his eyes, that kind of slang was so dumb, but then the kid was pulling himself up into the truck. While he was sorting himself out Seunghyun took the chance to inventory his unwanted passenger. The boy was a textbook hippie, he thought with some distaste: his clothing consisted of torn cut-offs and muddy canvas tennis shoes, his only other attire a bit of embroidered ribbon tied round his forehead and wilting white flowers in his hair, which needed combing and tumbled down past the pale gold skin of his shoulders. He had _tattoos_. Seunghyun shook his head and shifted into first.

The hitcher quickly closed the door and slung his painted canvas backpack on the truck floor, balancing a battered acoustic guitar slightly more carefully on the spare seat; it bore a sticker telling the reader to ‘Question Authority!’ that made Seunghyun curl his lip. The boy shuffled closer to make room for it, and now they were in an enclosed space more details of his passenger reached Seunghyun’s nose: the boy smelled of patchouli, and sweat from baking in the summer sun, and something else he was almost certain was pot. The young man caught him looking and gave him another slow, crooked smile that confirmed this.

“You’ve been at that festival, I guess,” said Seunghyun gruffly, to cover up the fact that he’d been staring. That was miles away over in Bethel, but even up at college he’d heard about the so-called ‘love-fest’. He got a peace sign for that and noticed ink designs on the boy’s slim fingers.

“Woodstock,” the smaller man told him, and sighed as if nothing had ever given him so much satisfaction as getting high and listening to Creedence Clearwater Revival with four hundred thousand other floppy-haired dopes over a long weekend.

“Hmph.”

“Say, man, thanks for picking me up,” said the boy as Seunghyun shifted gear; his voice was soft and a little dopey, with no hint that he was registering the awkwardness and general regret of the guy driving next to him. “First time a square like you ever stopped for me.” He gave Seunghyun his own appraising look up and down and grinned, as if his savior’s neatly pressed slacks, shirt and natty sleeveless sweater were the last word in tedium.

“If you don’t like it you can get out.” The cheek of this kid!

“I like it fine,” returned the hitcher easily. He pulled his bare legs up to loll on Seunghyun’s neat leather seat and fanned his face with one hand in the kind of graceful gesture Seunghyun figured _oughta_ belong to a girl. “What’s your name?” the boy continued.

“…Seunghyun.” This was obviously going to be a chatty journey, and there was a long way to go.

“Oh! You’ve got Korean parents too?” Another smile, wider this time. Seunghyun was surprised but didn’t care to show it.

“Mm-hmm. My mom.”

“Far out,” said the kid happily. “Jiyong.”

“Huh?” A hand tapped Seunghyun’s on the steering wheel.

“That’s me: Jiyong.” The boy was holding out his hand. After some thought Seunghyun closed his own around the long digits and shook; it wasn’t every day you saw another Korean face in Sullivan County, after all. Jiyong’s hand was hot. Seunghyun cranked down the window a bit and let the summer air blow in; that long hair fluttered more floral scent into his face. “So where’re _you_ coming from?” inquired Jiyong, who seemed to have taken the formal introduction to mean he now owned that side of the pickup: he propped one sneaker on the dash and wriggled until he was comfortable.

“College upstate. Heading back to the farm for the summer.” Seunghyun assumed he’d noticed the suitcases in the truck bed. “Get your damn foot off there.”

“_Figured_ you were a college man,” said Jiyong in a somewhat pert voice, removing it. Seunghyun thought he could detect a snigger. As if that somehow made him un-hip! And why should he care what this loafer thought anyway? he wondered, shooting Jiyong a glare for good measure. “What you gonna be? Banker? Lawyer? Real estate agent?” the boy inquired with a curl of his lip – a little chapped but otherwise oddly pretty, decided Seunghyun irrelevantly; it reminded him of something.

“A vet.”

“Hmm!” replied Jiyong. He sounded pleased. There was a short silence after this. Seunghyun watched the road and the wheat fields rumbling past under the blue vault of the sky, and the tattooed line of Jiyong’s calf out of the corner of his eye. He could feel the boy looking at him with some approval; he supposed veterinarian was a more acceptable career to a hippie than any white-collar job. Not that Seunghyun had had too much choice: his big brother would inherit the farm, and while it might be practically 1970 there were only so many halfway intelligent jobs open to an Asian in rural New York. Still, he liked animals and it was dairy country all around; he oughta have no problem finding work once he graduated.

“And what about you?” he asked after another minute’s silence, curiosity piqued by the reminder of his own prospects.

“Hmm?” said Jiyong again. He’d lit a roll-up cigarette without asking for permission; before the breeze took the smoke away Seunghyun caught the scent of flowers, just like everything else that belonged to Jiyong. Which was a pitiful amount, Seunghyun observed to himself.

“What about your job? Or college? Are you old enough to even _go_ to college?” What if Seunghyun turned out to be aiding and abetting a minor running away from home?!

“I’m twenty,” Jiyong assured him with a not unpleasing giggle that made his voice sound younger. “No college.”

“Then what do you do?” The younger man waved the cigarette languidly.

“This and that. I move around, so whatever comes up: bartending, modeling, dishwashing. Worked in a couple of galleries. Even on a farm once!” Seunghyun snorted at the unlikeliness of that, and also in disapproval at such an itinerant lifestyle; he couldn’t imagine not knowing where your next dollar would come from or where you’d sleep from month to month. It didn’t seem to be hurting Jiyong any, though: he might be short but he looked healthy enough. His hair and skin and teeth were good, and though his bones were delicate there was a roundness to his cheeks and thighs that said he was at least getting fed. Nevertheless, at this point in their brief acquaintance Seunghyun didn’t have a _lot_ of faith in the boy’s ability to care for himself.

“What happened to your shirt?” he demanded, glancing at Jiyong’s ink-littered torso that also bore the faint remains of body paint. Case in point.

“Swapped it at the festival.” Jiyong scratched at a bruise on his leg, then offered him the roll-up. Seunghyun shook his head: who knew what was in it?

“For what?”

“Dinner.”

“…You’re lucky it’s summer,” was all the older man could think to say. Jiyong grinned at him. Seunghyun couldn’t imagine why such a reckless kid would look so contented at losing the very shirt off his back.

“I’m lucky you stopped.” The smile turned sweet. Seunghyun blinked and quickly returned his attention to the road as a memory popped into his head of a kid he’d known in high school; they hadn’t been friends but he’d been illogically upset when the boy left to move to another town. Now where had _that_ come from? Seunghyun mused in mild amazement; he hadn’t thought about that in years. Perhaps it was something in Jiyong’s expression, or maybe the curl of his mouth. He shook his head to dislodge the memory. Jiyong hummed softly and they drove on.

“Want me to play you a song?” offered Jiyong, who didn’t seem to be able to stay quiet longer than five minutes. He gestured to the guitar, which was covered in stickers and in constant danger of sliding to the floor as Seunghyun negotiated the potholes.

“No,” said Seunghyun quickly. And then, to come off as less of a jerk: “Tell me why you do this.”

“What?”

“Live like this.”

“Jeez, you _are_ a square.” The boy shrugged his golden shoulders. “The old man kicked me out when I turned eighteen. This seems like, y’know…a natural progression.”

“What for?!” Jiyong gave him a look then, one that Seunghyun felt ought to convey something but whose meaning eluded him.

“He doesn’t approve of my lifestyle. Good Korean Catholic and all that.” For the first time since Jiyong had climbed into his truck Seunghyun felt a twinge of pity for the younger man; Jiyong didn’t appear to need it, he’d spoken so matter-of-factly, but Seunghyun wanted to say something all the same. He just wasn’t sure how to express it. Of course he knew the majority of right-thinking people – his sensible self included – looked askance at the Flower Power brigade: their loose work ethic, suspect morals, and the disarming but somehow alien air of _freedom_ they exuded bothered Seunghyun. It bothered his folks, too, and most of the guys in his college circle, excepting the few who had a thing for hippie chicks – and Seunghyun figured he could guess the reason for_ that_.

“…That’s too bad,” he said at last. Jiyong pushed a hand through his long hair, sweat misting his forehead even as the wind cooled it again. He gave the bigger man that crooked smile.

“It’s a bummer,” he agreed. “But I’ve gotta take responsibility for my own life.”

“Is that what you’re doing now?” asked Seunghyun skeptically.

“Yeah,” Jiyong told him. “I just wanna find some _peace_.” He pressed his lips together, pensive or anxious, Seunghyun couldn’t tell, just that it drew attention again to the shape of his mouth. Seunghyun looked away, trying not to feel awkward; he didn’t want to stare, and felt maybe it was his fault the kid was upset. Perhaps he shouldn’t have pried. “And now,” he heard Jiyong announce perkily, as if he’d shaken off the clouds to emerge again in bright sunshine, “I _am_ gonna sing!” And Seunghyun felt morally obliged to let him.

Some time later Jiyong mercifully put the guitar down. It wasn’t that he had a bad voice, Seunghyun conceded, unsuccessfully hiding a smile; in fact it was high and rather endearing. But the instrument was barely in tune and with the best will in the world you couldn’t call Jiyong a virtuoso player; add to that the fact that Jimi Hendrix and Jefferson Airplane didn’t exactly lend themselves to acoustic guitar, and Seunghyun found himself wanting to applaud out of sheer relief when it stopped.

“There’s a village about twenty minutes down the road,” he announced as Jiyong stretched both legs out, looking so pleased with himself Seunghyun suspected he might start up again. “Wanna grab a bite to eat?”

“I don’t have any cash.” Jiyong didn’t sound embarrassed about it. Once again Seunghyun wondered how anyone could live like that, as if money wasn’t important.

“I’ll pay,” he said, surprising himself: after that sinking feeling he’d had upon seeing who he’d stopped for, he hadn’t thought he’d be offering to buy his hitchhiker a meal. “And if you don’t have any particular place to be,” he added, guessing what Jiyong would probably be looking for now the festival was over, “you might get some tips on where to find a bit of work.”

“…Thanks,” said Jiyong quietly. He ducked his head and Seunghyun, who wasn’t watching the road properly at all by now, caught an almost wistful expression on his face. “Y’know, you’re the most surprising person I’ve met in a while.”

“You’re not such a drag yourself,” admitted Seunghyun. He thought his attempt to use the hippie slang might make Jiyong smile, but instead the boy lifted his head and with a spike of urgency in his laconic voice told him:

“Stop the truck.”

“Eh?”

“Pull off the road.” Jiyong leaned over and pointed peremptorily at an upcoming track leading to a dairy pasture. “There, in that field!”

“What is it, are you gonna throw up?!” Was that what happened when you smoked too much weed? Seunghyun’s sympathy for Jiyong quickly began to evaporate, but for the sake of his pickup he eased down through the gears and trundled off the empty road into the grass. He opened the driver-side door to jump down and help the kid out; but before he could do so Jiyong reached further across him and yanked it closed again. Then he took Seunghyun’s face in both hands and kissed him.

“Mmph!” Jiyong’s lips muffled his sound of protest. Without thinking Seunghyun grabbed him hard by the shoulders, tanned skin and strands of hair warm and silky beneath his hands, but he’d scarcely done so when he felt the boy’s mouth open against his. He took a staggered breath and caught the taste of him, smoke and flowers, a bewilderingly heady mix. Jiyong took advantage of his inhalation to flick his pink tongue between Seunghyun’s lips. “_Whoa_!!” Seunghyun yelled as that electric sensation slammed him back into awareness. “What the goddamn hell are you _doing_?!” He could feel his pulse racing, his chest fluttering with panic, and forgave himself for cursing.

“Don’t you like it?” asked Jiyong, fingertips still gentle on his face.

“What’re you _doing_?” insisted Seunghyun again; he didn’t want to think on that question. Jiyong shrugged and smiled, the pretty lips that’d sparked that teenage memory inches from his own.

“Saying thanks.”

“I haven’t done anything!”

“For picking me up.” Seunghyun stared at him like he was speaking another language. “You know the hitching rules,” Jiyong continued, somehow insinuating his way even further into Seunghyun’s lap without a lot of obstruction. “‘Ass, gas or grass’. And I don’t have the money for the last two.”

“I _don’t_ know the damn hitching rules,” said Seunghyun vehemently; Jiyong’s body was a warm weight against his, alternately skinny and soft depending on what bit of the younger man was touching him. “I never heard them ‘til right this second!” Jiyong looked at him, apparently with as much disbelief as his own sudden advance had caused.

“…You really don’t!” Then he grinned. “That’s so cute.” And he kissed Seunghyun again.

“You don’t have to!” yelped Seunghyun before he could get going; Jiyong’s lips were sweet and smooth, just one tiny chapped patch adding a disheveled signature that seemed all his own – it felt _dangerous_. “Those ‘rules’ are fucking ridiculous: all coming from guys who want something for nothing! Well I’m not like that.”

“Oh, man,” murmured Jiyong, his smile widening. “Keep talking, you’re just getting cuter.”

“I said you _don’t have to_.” The smaller man’s weight was distracting, his heat and the smell of his hair mingling with the leather of the seats and the cool scent of the fields outside.

“But I want to!” said Jiyong triumphantly, and as it turned out the third time was the charm: when he leaned in again Seunghyun inexplicably failed to stop him. Instead he found his mouth nudging back in response to the pressure of Jiyong’s lips, his heart skittering with the titillation of it all.

“…Is this what you meant by your ‘lifestyle’?!” he managed when Jiyong paused to kiss his jaw, remembering what the boy had said about his father.

“Of course. Ever since Pop caught me with the boy next door.” Jiyong was speaking against his skin, his breath a delicious whisper. “He can’t be having a deviant in his house. But I like what I like.”

“Oh…!” said Seunghyun lamely, swallowing hard as his hands rose of their own volition to cradle Jiyong’s elegant head; the hair was soft and tangled between his fingers. Jiyong hummed, evidently consoled.

“And I like _you_.” How could he say that so lightly? thought the older man, incredulous; they’d known each other less than two hours. And yet here _he_ was, sweat on his back suddenly as his body caught light for Jiyong. “Haven’t you ever liked a guy before?”

“No!” Seunghyun stopped, remembering that boy back in school, the way he’d watch him in Math class; hadn’t that feeling in his stomach been similar to what he’d felt with his girlfriends – and a shade of what he was feeling now? “…Well, I…” he mumbled. He knew he was turning scarlet, and was stunned at himself.

“Soon as I got a look at you I thought you were the most handsome strait-laced bore I’d ever seen,” Jiyong told him gleefully, his fingertips tracing Seunghyun’s throat. “When you let me in you went up another notch. And I started hoping…maybe you _do_ swing my way.” He brushed the tip of his nose against Seunghyun’s burning cheek. “Then I found out you’re Korean too! And now you’re offering to buy me dinner, help me get a job? No normal guy’s ever tried to do that before – and you don’t even want anything in return!”

“Just for you to get off me,” said Seunghyun, knowing as he spoke how lame his protest sounded. “We oughta keep driving if we’re going to make it to Fallsburg before dark…”

“…D’you really want me to?” asked Jiyong, his amused tone turning solemn. Seunghyun looked up at him, his frankly beautiful face and the expression in his dark eyes, not to mention all that barely-clad skin gliding molten against him. He clenched his jaw and took a deep breath.

“_No_.”

“Oh, goodie,” said Jiyong, and pushed him back against the headrest.

Seunghyun was amazed at how easily his body welcomed Jiyong. He’d had plenty of girlfriends, most of them ‘good girls’ and a few of them not, but he’d never dreamed of having any of them in his lap mere hours after introducing himself. And here he was now with an armful of eager young man; Jiyong was lithe and grinning in his embrace, skin sticky with sweat as the stationary truck grew hot again in the late afternoon sun. Jiyong’s tongue was caressing his own in a way that seemed geared to distract – Seunghyun didn’t know from what ‘til the boy gave a wiggle like a tropical fish and Seunghyun realized he’d shimmied out of his short-shorts and was now stark naked. He quit what he was doing, stared, blushed. Jiyong chuckled at him, his breath coming fast, then straddled him in the driver’s seat and kissed him even harder.

“Touch me!” he suggested, and Seunghyun’s hands obeyed pronto. Jiyong’s back was strong and arched itself beautifully as the older man found a ticklish spot; the curve of his ass was _perfect_, firm but yielding in Seunghyun’s enthusiastic grip – not really like a chick but not _so_ different as to be a turn-off. In fact it was quite the opposite, and Jiyong’s plump thighs bracketing his hips and squeezing down only encouraged him. Seunghyun was almost embarrassed at how fast he got hard, and by how little it bothered him to feel Jiyong’s own erection pressed against his stomach. When Jiyong touched him through his pants he gasped, lightheaded on oxygen and the sensation of those clever fingers.

“Uh-oh,” murmured Jiyong, lips brushing his. “Don’t go fainting on me!” He took the hem of Seunghyun’s summer sweater and wrestled it off over his head, leaving him in his increasingly damp shirt. Seunghyun felt better; it really _was_ hot in here, Jiyong’s hips slick beneath his hands. He was about to suggest opening the other window but thought better of it: they were only a few yards off the road, and quiet as it was he really didn’t want to be caught like this – he didn’t want to _stop_. It was obvious Jiyong had no intention of doing so either way: one more heated French kiss and he was moving, shuffling backwards ‘til he could drop to his knees in the foot-well. It was a tight fit. “Roll the seats back,” he ordered sweetly, slapping Seunghyun’s thigh to part his legs and stop him gawping like an idiot. The bigger man fumbled for the lever but couldn’t manage it, he was too dumbfounded and excited, so Jiyong located it and did it himself. He leaned forward and set his fingers to Seunghyun’s belt.

“…I can’t believe this is happening,” said Seunghyun, sounding daft even to himself. Jiyong smiled and whipped open the buckle, unbuttoning his pants with every sign of anticipation.

“Well_ I_ believe in free love.” So saying, Jiyong yanked Seunghyun’s slacks and underwear down his hips and took a gratified breath at the evidence of the bigger man’s admiration. His slim fingers caressed a line down the length of Seunghyun’s hard-on and his smile widened at the groan his touch drew out. “You gonna let me exercise my beliefs, Mr. Morals?”

“Jesus Christ, do anything you want!” exclaimed Seunghyun, shuddering with anticipation as any remaining squeamishness and disapproval waved goodbye. Jiyong made a triumphant noise, and before Seunghyun could form any more specific wishes his lips parted and he took the older man’s cock in his mouth without a word of warning. “_Fuck_…!” said Seunghyun eloquently; his entire body jolted with surprise and the sensation of wet, sinful heat.

“Mmm.” Jiyong raised his head and licked his lips. He noted Seunghyun’s hands clutching at the steering wheel in a mix of amazement and frustration, and laughed softly. “Do I measure up?” he asked, one hand now stroking Seunghyun’s erection in a tantalizing rhythm; surely he _knew_ he was being a tease. Seunghyun gave a frantic nod to make him start again – he thought he’d say _anything_ right now to please this incredible creature. As a matter of fact he had no basis for comparison, ‘cos this was the first time _ever_… He tightened his hands on the wheel as Jiyong began to suck him again, his dark head bobbing in Seunghyun’s lap. Nice girls simply wouldn’t _do_ it this way, thought Seunghyun, at least not before they got a ring on their finger, and he had never seen such an intoxicating sight before. Mary-Beth had promised to do it for him once – on his twenty-first birthday – but they’d quit seeing each other before he’d reached it. And here was Jiyong, without even a second thought…!

“…You’re crazy!” he decided, cutting off a deep moan as Jiyong’s fingers began to explore his balls. “Christ, that’s _amazing_…” The boy glanced up and made eye contact; his cheeks were flushed, hair hanging in his face. Seunghyun reached down to brush it aside but found himself sliding his hands into the long locks instead, his grip tightening convulsively as Jiyong quit drawing patterns on his shaft with his tongue and took him deeper into his throat.

“Mmm!” said Jiyong again in a muffled whine of concentration. Seunghyun loved that sound and was only growing more giddy with the feelings Jiyong’s intrepid mouth was creating; he wanted to touch him all over, taste him on his own tongue – this unstoppable goddamn flower child was on the edge of undoing him. Seunghyun had a vague idea that he oughta think through how this had happened, how insane it all was and what was _wrong_ with him; but he couldn’t think of anything now, only Jiyong and his knockout eroticism. Jiyong looked up again, crinkled his eyes encouragingly and sped up ‘til Seunghyun was no longer in control of himself at all. He ground out a warning groan but Jiyong didn’t pull away, just held on to his hips as he came, and swallowed everything down. Yet again Seunghyun was staring at him in disbelief.

“You…” he began when Jiyong had finally let up and was draped over him with his head pillowed on Seunghyun’s stomach. He tried to stroke Jiyong’s hair and found he couldn’t move a muscle: his body had gone from almost painful tension to utmost relaxation and there was nothing he could do but smile idiotically. “You didn’t have to do _that_.”

“I only ever do what I wanna do,” Jiyong informed him with that typical hippie blindness to how the world worked. His slim chest was heaving as he gulped for breath; his voice had turned soft and hoarse and his exquisite mouth had come up in a deep pink blush. Seunghyun couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed how gorgeous he was when he’d first stepped into the truck. He supposed his preconceived notions about Jiyong’s type had gotten the best of him.

“You’re…wow. Really good at this.” Most of the girls he’d dated would take that as an insult, like he was saying they were ‘loose’. Jiyong just smiled like a smug little cat and crawled back up into his lap. A quick glance was enough to discover he was still hard; with some vague mutters of disapproval from his strict moral center but mostly with hunger Seunghyun closed one hand around his cock. It felt nice, better than nice, and the way Jiyong’s eyelashes shivered closed, white teeth biting into his lower lip, was mesmerizing. Seunghyun kissed him as the boy’s arms slid round him, pressed his lips to Jiyong’s skin and tasted the salt sweat at the crook of his neck, then back to his mouth. It oughta be gross, tasting yourself on someone else’s tongue, but it wasn’t – it was just licentious enough to make him dizzy.

“Ohh, it feels nice,” whispered Jiyong in clear approval, pushing further into his hand.

“I should hope so.” Seunghyun laughed briefly, only a bit nervous: he’d done it to himself often enough, hadn’t he? He encircled Jiyong’s waist with his free arm and tugged him closer, moved his hand faster and watched him come – his face in that moment was like nothing Seunghyun had ever seen.

He told Jiyong this after, once the younger man’s breathing had eased and Seunghyun was over his dismay at how his shirt had become suspiciously stained.

“None of your partners looked like that?” said Jiyong in surprise as he wriggled his shorts back on and Seunghyun started the pickup.

“Not like _that_.” It’d been the most glowing expression; perhaps it was just ‘cos Jiyong’s face was so objectively lovely.

“Then you probably didn’t satisfy ‘em,” Jiyong told him matter-of-factly. “You can’t mistake it when a woman really comes.” And then, at Seunghyun’s open-mouthed stare: “Hey, I’ve seen it before – about five times this weekend, anyhow. Woodstock was a _very_ loving atmosphere.”

“But,” retorted Seunghyun, mortified, “you said _you_ don’t-”

“No.” Jiyong gave him a satiated smile. “But I guess the spectator sees more of the game.” Seunghyun huffed, and tried not to be charmed by the kid’s lack of awareness that he’d said anything to offend his driver’s masculine pride. “Anyway,” Jiyong assured him, his feet up on the dash again and head on Seunghyun’s shoulder, “you satisfied _me_. And if you’re happy to be patient and experiment you can learn how to please anyone in the sack.”

“Thanks!” Seunghyun drove on; he wanted to be cross but couldn’t. Embarrassed, yes: as a veterinary student he thought he’d become blasé about sexual stuff, ‘cos in the end it was all science. But the free and easy way Jiyong gave his assessment and advice really _did_ make him feel like a square.

“…Are you mad?” asked Jiyong lazily.

“No. It’s a good job you’re so cute.” The smaller man snorted and closed his eyes against the sunset glare.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later Seunghyun parked the pickup on the street opposite Ed’s Diner. It was at the edge of the village nearest Fallsburg and there was only another hour or so to drive, but after his unexpected and mindblowing sex session he was peckish. Jiyong was asleep but he had to be hungry too.

“Wake up,” he told the boy, squeezing his thigh. Jiyong blinked and wrinkled his straight nose.

“You still gonna buy me dinner?” He sat up and slid lightly out of the passenger door.

“I think it’s the least I can do, don’t you?”

“Even stevens,” said Jiyong, stretching happily. “Man, I’m starving.”

Seunghyun raided his suitcases before they went inside and judiciously changed his shirt. He lent Jiyong a plain t-shirt that was way too big on him and surveyed the results doubtfully: he actually looked more shiftless than ever – his long hair was mussed and the petals of several flowers had come adrift, while his lips were still pink and tender from the roadside treat he’d given Seunghyun. The bigger man removed the flowers and straightened the dumb ribbon headband for him, then sighed; that’d have to do. He managed to stop Jiyong blithely wandering into the path of an oncoming feed truck, and they crossed the street together. Ed’s was familiar to Seunghyun: the owner, Eduardo, was of Mexican extraction and pretty conservative as well as being a grumpy old bastard, but he liked Seunghyun alright and didn’t give him any hassle for being Asian. It was only today that Seunghyun noticed the faded sign tacked up beside the door: ‘_If your a ‘hippie’ go someplace else!_’ He’d seen similar notices all over the smaller towns but hadn’t paid them any mind. Jiyong read it, shrugged like it didn’t apply to him, and walked on in.

“Uh-uh!!” yelled Eduardo across the empty diner – it was early yet and most men would still be finishing up their work – “Read the damn sign!”

“He’s with me!” called Seunghyun, to prevent Jiyong saying anything too aggravating to this rural old man. Eduardo squinted in his direction and recognized him.

“You’re kiddin’, right?” Jiyong opened his mouth but Seunghyun wasn’t about to let anyone start insulting _anyone_.

“Come on, Ed, I’m starving! I’m paying for him, don’t worry about it.” Most likely the owner imagined anyone with tattoos and long hair would try the old dine-n-dash the minute they got done eating. Eduardo scowled for a bit, then grunted and waved them to a booth. Jiyong sat down opposite Seunghyun and immediately tangled their ankles together, giving him a conspiratorial smile over the table-top. Seunghyun gulped.

“Where’s the menu?” inquired Jiyong. He glanced around.

“There isn’t one.” The diner was too small to offer anything other than the most basic fare, but the cooking was good and Seunghyun’s tastes weren’t exotic – at least, they hadn’t been ‘til today. Eduardo grumbled over and stood with his arms folded and an eternal cigarette in the corner of his mouth.

“Two hamburgers and home fries,” Seunghyun ordered. “With everything.” He turned to Jiyong. “Unless you’d rather a hotdog.”

“I don’t eat meat,” announced Jiyong. Seunghyun groaned while Eduardo looked scandalized at this bombshell, as if it’d confirmed every appalling thought he’d ever had about the hippie movement. “At least,” the boy went on in a sweet tone, “not _that_ kind.” Did Jiyong just drop him a wink?! Seunghyun had a vivid flash of that pretty head in his lap, and went crimson.

“Jesus.” He coughed, and kicked Jiyong under the table; the younger man ignored him. “Just the fries for him, then,” he amended to the puffing diner owner. “With a cheese sandwich.” He turned back to Jiyong. “You oughta at least eat some vegetables or something.” Both Jiyong and Eduardo looked dubious at the idea of there being such a thing under this roof.

“…Got some green peas in the garden out back,” said Eduardo after much thought. Jiyong lit up.

“Ooh, a big bowl with butter, please!” The old man shook his head in disgust but went off to give his wife the order.

“And beer!” Seunghyun called after him. God knew he needed something after the past few hours. “You drink _that_, I suppose?” he asked Jiyong.

“It’s not alive, so yeah.” Jiyong pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Although I guess if you think about yeast…”

“You’re really a piece of work, you know that?”

“Oh,” said Jiyong in his cute dopey voice, “let’s not argue. Let’s just eat some good food and chill out.”

“Whatever you say,” agreed Seunghyun, grateful. He sat and watched Jiyong as he chatted on between puffs at another of his herbal cigarettes. It was really something, how charming he was in his oversize t-shirt, hands dancing with his languid gestures and dainty face turning golden-pink after downing his first beer. Seunghyun sipped his own more sedately and marveled. He wasn’t sure what this sudden knockout attraction said about himself, and wasn’t entirely certain he was ready to find out; but the strength of it was undeniable.

The food came and Jiyong ate with gusto and better table manners than Seunghyun had expected. In between nibbling fries and chasing peas around his bowl he snatched up one of the flimsy paper napkins, produced a stub of pencil from somewhere about his person, and began to doodle. Seunghyun ate silently and enjoyed his adorable expression of concentration, while Eduardo watched the two of them like a hawk for any signs of pocketing the silverware – his estimation of Seunghyun had obviously tanked since he’d shown up with Jiyong.

“Let’s have a look,” said Seunghyun when the boy abandoned his pencil to concentrate on his third beer. Jiyong pushed the napkin across the table. It was a small drawing of Seunghyun in the Ford, barking at an invisible Jiyong to get his muddy feet off the dash; the style was close to a caricature but seemed to contain so much affection and so much of what Seunghyun considered his essential self that it was elevated into something finer. “You’re _really_ good,” he told Jiyong for the second time in as many hours.

“Mm,” was Jiyong’s only response. He gave Seunghyun a tipsy smile and gestured that he could keep the picture, but didn’t seem inclined to discuss it. That was a shame, thought Seunghyun: he loved art with a passionate amateur instinct, made a point of going to a gallery whenever he was in the city, and yet it was so hard to talk about it with anyone else he knew. It was his one streak of whimsy in an otherwise pragmatic life. He tucked the napkin into his pocket anyway; it’d be a nice memento.

They finished eating and Seunghyun paid the bill after considerable throat-clearing from Eduardo, who was giving Jiyong dirtier and dirtier looks as other customers trickled in. It was too late now to go round the village asking about jobs; Jiyong would just have to wait for Fallsburg and the morning.

“Thanks,” said Jiyong, clambering back up into the truck. Seunghyun didn’t even bother trying not to look at his ass – it was dark outside now and it might be the last view he had of it. They drove on towards the town closest to Seunghyun’s farm, both full and comfortable. Jiyong stopped him once to take a leak in a hedgerow – Seunghyun had thought he wouldn’t be able to hold that much beer. He hopped back in and began to ramble, skipping between topics in a way the older man couldn’t mentally connect: life and music and what Seunghyun categorized as standard hippie bullshit, love and the counterculture, protest sit-ins and the evils of capitalism. Seunghyun privately thought most of it was nonsense; but it made him smile. It was too dark now to see Jiyong’s face. He wanted to slow the truck a bit and wait for the moon to come up so he could spend more time looking at him before they reached Jiyong’s destination. Then again, wouldn’t that be a jerk move? The boy was going to have to find a hostel or someplace when he arrived in Fallsburg, and the later they left it the trickier that would be.

“Hey,” drawled Jiyong, returning to the real world and nudging him. “Can I keep this shirt? I wanna tie-dye it.”

“Course,” said Seunghyun. It wasn’t like his mom would be counting them. “Looks better on you anyway.” Jiyong nodded in what Seunghyun presumed was gratitude. A silence fell, longer than before, and in it Seunghyun began to feel an uncomfortable sensation in the pit of his stomach. The slender silhouette beside him was staring out the passenger side as if watching for something in the headlights; though Seunghyun had an inkling it wasn’t exactly with eagerness. His stomach twinged again.

He was all set to blame it on Eduardo’s hamburgers when a familiar sign ahead proclaimed: ‘_Welcome to Fallsburg, NY_’. And _then_ he knew what it was.

“You know what?” he said hurriedly, and sensed Jiyong shift to look in his direction. “It’s late – it’ll be a pain in the ass for you to find someplace tonight.” The silence beside him turned attentive. “Especially looking as scruffy as you do,” he added in an attempt to sound offhand. More silence. “…So why don’t you come crash at the farm ‘til tomorrow?” The moment he said it he felt warmth against his side and an arm sliding through his, clinging to him eagerly.

“Yeah, _please_,” replied Jiyong without a shadow of hesitation, and Seunghyun felt the unpleasant clutch in his stomach recede to be replaced with a glow of pleasure. A good deed, he told himself – but he knew it wasn’t only that. He could sense Jiyong smiling beside him. They passed through the town and didn’t slow, and the whole time Seunghyun was smiling too.

* * *

Seunghyun wasn’t regretting his decision one bit as he turned off the road and bumped up the long track in the direction of his family’s farm; he was too busy figuring out where he oughta stash his guest.

“What animals you got here?” Jiyong was asking him in a chirpy voice that conveyed how pleased he was not to have been abandoned in Fallsburg.

“Dairy cattle,” said Seunghyun absently. “Couple of horses for doing the rounds.”

“Horses,” repeated Jiyong warmly.

“Now look.” Seunghyun tapped his fingers on the wheel. “I’m gonna have to put you in the hayloft over the stable – you won’t mind that, right?”

“You kidding?” He wasn’t quite sure what that meant.

“It’s just that it’s late already – my folks’ll be in bed,” the older man explained. “They’re nice and all but Dad won’t have anyone in the house he hasn’t been introduced to first. But occasionally we get drifters and day-workers coming through and he lets them sleep in the barn, and-” Seunghyun was aware he was waffling.

“I mean, are you kidding, of course I don’t mind,” Jiyong assured him in his laid-back way. “Getting back to nature and all – sounds dreamy.”

“Good. Good.” Seunghyun parked in the farmyard, shut the pickup door quietly and helped Jiyong down, shouldering his guitar for him when he declined to leave it in the Ford. The deepening night had cooled the air considerably. By a combination of muscle memory and the rising moon Seunghyun led his obliging hitchhiker across the yard and into the stable, directing him to the ladder that accessed the open loft. Jiyong got up it pretty well in the dark but immediately tripped at the top and sprawled into a heap of hay. Seunghyun rushed up after him and found him laughing at himself.

“Stay put,” the bigger man advised. There shouldn’t be any rats, his brother had a cute terrier that dealt ferociously with pests, but he wouldn’t put it past Jiyong to go exploring and wander right off the edge. “I’ll get you something warm to put on. And don’t smoke!”

“Ahh,” said Jiyong, and stretched out. “This is the life!”

Seunghyun crept into the house, hushed the dogs, dumped his suitcases and returned with the big flashlight, a blanket, and two pairs of pajamas: he’d keep Jiyong company all night if the younger man wanted. When he got up the ladder he saw he wouldn’t need the torch. The moon was high and full enough now to cast a silvery beam through the small skylight; it illuminated Jiyong as if it had been seeking him out. He was naked again, the color stripped from him by the night and his hair ink against his skin, which glowed in a way that gave it a light of its own. He was like a painting, thought Seunghyun, and his breath caught in his throat.

“…Brought you some pajamas,” he said when he could speak again. “You must be cold.” Jiyong obviously had his own plans as to how to keep warm: he beckoned Seunghyun down and without a pause took him in his arms. Instead of a seductive move, though, the older man received a fervent hug.

“This place is a trip,” murmured Jiyong, limbs wrapped around him like a monkey; he ignored the proffered garments. “Just _listen_.” Seunghyun did as he was told and heard the familiar sounds of night birds and the breeze, the soft whickering of the horses below. “It’s not like the city,” whispered the boy gravely. Seunghyun raised his head enough to see Jiyong gazing past him through the window at the starry sky. “It feels…real, you know?”

“Not really,” said Seunghyun with a huff of laughter. He listened to the sounds more carefully, weaving in the gentle noise of Jiyong’s breathing and the rustle as he stroked his calf across Seunghyun’s leg atop the hay. “…But it’s nice.” Jiyong hummed in agreement; then, as though moved to action by the sheer beauty of the night around him, he drew Seunghyun back down and kissed him.

“_Jiyong_…” Seunghyun had hoped with everything he had that this would happen again before they parted ways. It felt like years since this afternoon, when his first reaction to Jiyong’s caress had been horror, and now he could take his time proving himself wrong.

“You want to, right?” Jiyong murmured, hands sliding down Seunghyun’s spine and up his torso as if enjoying the feeling of strength in the larger body above him. In reply Seunghyun kissed him back, pressing him into the fragrant hay and parting his lips with his tongue. He let his hands explore Jiyong’s body properly this time, from the artistic line of his collar-bones to his small, hard nipples – that made the younger man gasp and wind both legs around him – and further along his body. Jiyong indulged himself in being spoiled for a while before pulling off Seunghyun’s shirt and everything else. Seunghyun immediately found himself in the middle of a prickly experience.

“Itches,” he explained as he paused to spread the blanket down, rolling Jiyong over to lie on top of it. Jiyong gave him a leisurely once-over – much more appreciative now than when he’d first clapped eyes on Seunghyun.

“I knew you’d look awesome naked.” His hands gravitated to the older man’s ass and squeezed luxuriously; that felt so good! Seunghyun exhaled shakily and kissed his throat. “I’d like to see it in daylight,” Jiyong continued, slowly guiding Seunghyun down his body. “You should’ve come to Woodstock!”

“Yeah, right,” said Seunghyun with a chuckle. He could taste the remains of the weird body paint on Jiyong’s skin, but being able to raise a series of shivers and soft moans with the movement of his lips and tongue made up for that. He kissed Jiyong ardently below his navel and paused.

“…Go ahead, try,” suggested Jiyong in a low voice. His fingers slid into Seunghyun’s hair and pushed gently at his head. So Seunghyun tried: he’d wanted to ever since he’d seen Jiyong hard in his lap; only Jiyong’s earlier comments about not satisfying his previous partners made him feel shy and uncertain. “If you don’t practice,” Jiyong went on, like he’d divined what Seunghyun was thinking, “you’ll never learn, right? C’mon, I know you’ll make me feel good.”

It was strange having another man in his mouth, and difficult: managing his gag reflex while listening for response sounds from Jiyong, who he didn’t know in this respect at all. It was hard to gauge what he liked. But the younger man coached him, and with the carefully-judged use of tongue and fingers he managed to get Jiyong panting, his thigh quivering with pleasure against Seunghyun’s neck – it was a revelation that it could feel so fine to do this to a guy. Seunghyun didn’t know if he could make Jiyong come, and before he could seriously try the boy disengaged him and pulled him back up his body. He could feel Jiyong’s rapid heartbeat in his own chest and his quick, shallow breaths as the smaller man kissed him, open-mouthed and clumsy.

“Wanna fuck?” offered Jiyong excitedly. His erection was insistent against Seunghyun’s hip. Seunghyun had thought they _were_, but–

“You mean…?” His voice was unsteady at the thought of it.

“Yeah, you know what I mean.” Jiyong took both his hands and set them firmly on the small swell of his buttocks. “I want it.”

“…Just like that?!” exclaimed Seunghyun. A blowjob on the first day was one thing, but this was a level of spontaneity he honestly hadn’t expected.

“Just like that,” Jiyong agreed, and grinned in the dim light. “God, you’re a slowpoke – but I never met someone so attractive. Why wouldn’t I want you inside me? Or, y’know, whichever way round you like.” Seunghyun was glad the night hid his blush, though it obviously couldn’t conceal his extreme enthusiasm ‘cos there was Jiyong looking flattered and delighted at his response.

“_Yes_,” muttered Seunghyun. “Of course I want to! Er…” He hesitated; he’d never done it this way before and didn’t know the first thing about starting out. “How?”

“You leave that to me,” said Jiyong airily. He made it sound easy as pie. Seunghyun nodded and squeezed his ass gratefully before sliding both hands up the line of his back; Jiyong’s skin was fever-hot where they were pressed together belly to belly, cool and satiny everywhere else. The older man’s fingers raised shivers as they passed, from the chill of the air or maybe simple enjoyment. He was lost in the contrast when Jiyong captured his right hand and raised it to his lips; he took two of Seunghyun’s fingers into his mouth and began to suck them, his tongue swirling around the digits. A fiery line of sensation connected that touch right to Seunghyun’s cock and he rocked his pelvis against Jiyong’s to get some friction on it. “Hold your horses,” murmured Jiyong with one last brush of his tongue; Seunghyun could hear him laughing. “Here.” He guided Seunghyun’s hand between his legs, spread his thighs to invite him. Fingers trembling with desire, the bigger man obeyed. Jiyong was so tight inside! Seunghyun marveled as the boy moved his wrist for him, a focused expression on his flushed face ‘til it went slack and his eyelashes fluttered; a sweet sound escaped his lips.

“What was _that_?” demanded Seunghyun as Jiyong bit his lip and did it again.

“Oh,” said Jiyong, out of breath for some reason, “you’re not ready for the advanced course yet!” He kissed him. “Get off.” Confused and with some reluctance Seunghyun removed his weight from the beautiful body beneath him and watched Jiyong crawl over to his flower-patterned backpack. He rummaged in it for a bit and returned.

“Ta-daa! Knew I had some left.” He brandished a tube and what even Seunghyun recognized as a condom. Seunghyun raised his eyebrows at the thought of just carrying that stuff around on the off-chance you might get laid, but it did seem a very Jiyong thing to do. The younger man huffed at his expression and smiled.

“I’m into free love,” he clarified as he unscrewed the tube and squeezed the clear gel onto Seunghyun’s fingers, condom packet between his teeth. “Not free syphilis!” Seunghyun was very grateful for that particular piece of information. Jiyong lay back down on his stomach and raised his ass to accommodate his partner’s experimentation. Seunghyun was enjoying it now he’d got over his worries about hurting Jiyong, who was obviously strong and experienced. “More,” instructed Jiyong in a hitching voice; his hand tightened on Seunghyun’s supporting arm. “Wider.”

“It feels okay?” asked Seunghyun; he touched his lips to the small of Jiyong’s back. Jiyong pushed against his fingers in reply and let out a little moan at whatever Seunghyun had managed to do on accident – he sounded very pleased. The older man was dying to get even closer, feel that tight heat squeezing down on him, but at the same time he thought he could watch Jiyong like this forever. He wasn’t in control of any of it, though, and just as he was getting swept up again Jiyong sat up, pushed him down on his back and straddled him.

“Now,” he ordered, and unwrapped the condom hurriedly, rolling it onto Seunghyun’s dick with an avid expression. “Can’t wait anymore!” Seunghyun caressed his hips and his tight ass, supporting him as he took command. Jiyong’s moonlit skin had turned faintly pink from his cheeks to his chest, and Seunghyun could feel his thighs shuddering when he lowered himself slowly onto his erection.

“_Ahh_,” they both exclaimed at the same moment, an inarticulate sound of approval. Seunghyun had never felt anything like it – it might even beat Jiyong’s mouth. Jiyong beamed at him, laid both palms flat on his stomach, and began to ride him.

In the unspecified period of time that followed, which might have been twenty minutes and might have been eternity, Seunghyun made a miraculous discovery: that it was heaven to fuck another man and even better to let that man take control. Feverishly he wondered how good it might be to be the one in control himself, to flip Jiyong over and screw him in some primal rutting ritual of ecstasy. But Jiyong was doing a stupendous job of that himself now he’d got going, burying Seunghyun’s cock to the base over and over as he moaned happily to himself. The older man was very glad they weren’t in the house, ‘cos he couldn’t control his own growls of pleasure either. Jiyong was a wild creature above him, long hair flying, short bitten-off nails raking baby clawmarks down Seunghyun’s chest to add an unintentional zest of pain to the magic of being inside him. Seunghyun dragged in a breath and tightened his grip on Jiyong’s hips to move him deeper, faster, and the boy grinned at him in fierce encouragement.

“Now…you got it, baby!” Jiyong praised him. He leaned back slightly in Seunghyun’s grasp and his eyes squeezed closed as he found that mysterious spot that seemed good enough to make him yell.

“That’s it…!” gasped Seunghyun, wanting to hear more of those sounds. Jiyong’s skin was gleaming with sweat now, the older man’s fingers slipping across his flesh, and the shine mixed with the moonlight gave him a radiant luster that turned him into a sprite or a nymph or one of those other hippie-dippy nature spirits from a romantic painting – but there was nothing ethereal about the way Jiyong’s buttocks were grinding down against him or the expert constriction of his ass. Seunghyun heard himself blather “You’re perfect!” or something equally sappy, and knew he was about to come ‘cos he always said stuff like that; only this time he meant it with all his heart. Jiyong shot him a self-satisfied smile that turned into a cry as Seunghyun began to pump his cock – he’d _make_ this lovely smug creature come first, if only to show he wasn’t totally clueless! The smaller man grit his teeth and rode Seunghyun harder; his dark eyes were shining with determination and a touch of amusement.

“Yes!!” Seunghyun let out a triumphant shout: Jiyong had frozen above him and was trembling in his hands as his orgasm hit, his own hands clutching at Seunghyun’s forearms. Seunghyun waited and watched with admiration ‘til it was over, then slapped his ass gleefully and started him moving again. Jiyong was all willowy and soft now, pliable and easy to direct, and it took only another minute for Seunghyun to reach his own brilliant finish.

“Ohh, god…” said Jiyong between pants. Seunghyun dragged him down and enveloped him in an embrace of pure gratitude; the boy’s lips found his and they lay there kissing and fighting for breath, the bigger man still inside him. Jiyong didn’t seem in any hurry to sort himself out or avoid the sticky mess splashed across Seunghyun’s stomach, and there was something endearing about that. He sprawled out lazily while Seunghyun stroked his damp hair; below them the horses got over their surprise at the untoward noises and settled down, and before long everything was peaceful again. Jiyong exhaled in a beatific sigh.

“Thank you…” mumbled Seunghyun against his cheek. He felt Jiyong’s puff of laughter.

“Worth picking me up, you think?” Seunghyun cupped the nape of his neck where a feathered angel was tattooed. He’d anticipated some regret, some hangover from his conservative upbringing, but there was none – nothing but affection and what he might even call enlightenment.

“Luckiest goof I ever made,” he told Jiyong.

“Charmer.”

“Maybe you_ are_ right,” Seunghyun conceded. “Maybe there’s something to this peace and love crap after all.”

“Hey, then I’m spreading the word.” He felt Jiyong’s slender finger tap his chin in amusement; then the kid raised his head to gaze down at him. “Reckon if I gave it another go I could really convert you.”

“Then _do_,” said Seunghyun impulsively. “Stay awhile!” Jiyong’s expression changed and the older man dared to imagine it showed hope – the thought of this sweet and maddening person drifting out of his life so soon after he’d entered it was suddenly unbearable. But how long had Jiyong been stationary since he’d left home? Perhaps he _liked_ it like this.

“And do what?” inquired Jiyong quizzically, his fingertips brushing Seunghyun’s jaw.

“We always need a few farmhands to help out in summer,” Seunghyun told him quickly. “Usually they’re students on vacation but I know Dad would take you on if you tidy up and show willing.”

“Hmm.”

“We could sleep up here every night, or ride out under the stars…” He figured that might appeal – Jiyong wouldn’t find a better place to commune with nature. “And there’s so much you can teach me,” he added in a murmur. Jiyong hummed and brushed their mouths together. “Anyway, aren’t you broke? You can live here for free _and_ get paid.”

“I’m not broke,” said Jiyong with a chuckle. “Not quite. I just have no cash. But I’ve got a bank account.” Seunghyun frowned. “I don’t touch that.”

“Why?”

“I’m saving,” Jiyong explained; he sounded rather embarrassed about it, like dealing with such an institution made him a card-carrying capitalist pig.

“Very sensible!” Seunghyun patted his head in approval – it was the first forward-thinking thing the boy had said since they met. “But what for?” Jiyong sighed.

“I wanna go to art school one day. That’s where you find all the creatives.” From the way he spoke you’d think this was a complete flight of fancy, and Seunghyun was no longer surprised he hadn’t wanted to talk about his drawing.

“You should!” said Seunghyun, who’d carefully stashed the picture in his boyhood treasure box as soon as he’d snuck into his room. “You’re great.”

“But it’s _so_ expensive.” Jiyong sounded wistful.

“What about scholarships and things?” The younger man shrugged the shrug of someone who’d lived without parental advice or practical guidance since high school.

“I don’t understand that stuff – all that bureaucracy.”

“So it’s not that you object to it, you know, ideologically?” The face Jiyong made then was adorable.

“….No-oooo,” he admitted at last, nose scrunched up. So he _did_ have some common sense. Seunghyun perked up and squeezed him with enthusiasm.

“Then stay for the summer. And if you can still stand me at the end of it, come back up with me to college! There’s an Art department on one of the campuses – I could ask around, help you get an application together.” He stopped, worried that it might be way too much for this flyaway boy. “And…well, just take it easy. See how it goes.” There was a long pause; Jiyong had tucked his face into Seunghyun’s neck and was lying there silent, and his character was not yet familiar enough to guess what he was thinking. Seunghyun found himself holding his breath. Then Jiyong said quietly:

“…I think you’re wonderful.” He raised his head and Seunghyun saw a smile that brightened the dim loft like sunlight. “Yes,” added Jiyong. “Let’s try it. One day at a time.”

Seunghyun felt himself beaming from ear to ear, until Jiyong made a beautiful little sound and kissed him hard enough to knock everything else out of his head. The older man returned it ‘til they were both breathless, and they lay there whispering for a while, eyelids growing heavy and sleepy. Seunghyun wrapped Jiyong up in the blanket, then in his arms, and experienced a moment’s thankfulness for whatever force – good upbringing or common politeness or the mysterious workings of the universe – that had made him stop his truck. It was truly the best mistake he had ever made.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still very much immersed in _Tales From The Top_, so the dynamics are probably kind of similar to that fic. But I wanted to write something short and happy and cute for a change - hope you enjoyed it and thanks for reading! :)


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